Don't Blink
by eahink95
Summary: This is a crossover of Greek Mythology and the Doctor Who Episode "Blink". It is from the perspective of Medusa, who is supposedly the creator of the moving statues. I wrote it back in 2013. There are 2013 words...


Don't Blink

Emily Hinkle

Dreams and visions, darkness and truth, angels and demons. What have they? What have they to do with one another? Humans and animals, passion and despair. What have they? What have they to do with one another? Fire and ice, life and death, cold and hot, darkness and light. What are these things? What are they really? Stone and water, opposites of the world we live in, in the universe. These things are opposites are they not?

You know nothing. Nothing at all. These strange things you have seen, have watched and imagined are nothing. All these have an opposite. You do not know them though. You don't know anything of the terror I have seen. You don't know anything of the darkness or the light, the angels, the creation or the destruction. You don't know anything.

Blinking. A nasty habit that all humans have. A terrible habit. Blinking. Blink and a second of your life has vanished. Blink and something happens to you that triggers something else in your mind. Blink thrice and you have eliminated three seconds of your life. Three seconds you will never get back. Blinking over and over again implies lies are being told by the person blinking. Blinking three times implies complete and total confusion. I have blinked so many times, and I don't even know how many. I'm trying to count how many seconds I waste on blinking as I write this. I'm up to about 30 thus far. Such a waste. Such a waste.

But you knew that. You knew that blinking was a waste of time. But you didn't know it was dangerous. Unless you're a Doctor Who fan. I'm not. Never was really. But I know. I know everything about those bloody angels. Love them to death. I want two of them on my grave, looking at each other. I want them to be named Ra and Isis. My two lovers looking at each other for all eternity. My own little weeping angels. So bloody Medusa for you, but that's my sadistic side.

Sorry, you don't know why I'm writing this. I'm writing it for your sake, whoever you may be. Yeah, the Doctor may be in charge of time and all that, but I'm the one who created the darn things. I thought I could be Dr. Frankenstein. So, I did. I created a series of Frankenstein monsters. My monsters. The weeping angels, my beautiful creations. My bloody beautiful creations. With teeth like that of a wolf, so they can eat animals like them. But no, they feed on "what if" moments. Cruel of me, wasn't it? To force them to the point of eating things that don't even exist, but what might have been. I thought it would be better than having them kill some poor innocent animal for food. But no, I made things worse. Much worse. That much is absolutely obvious. And every poor and foolish artist I have ever seen create a statue… I would like to slap them for creating a monster to join my own creations. Gosh I worry about them. My poor babies… yet, they shouldn't have been bothering with humans.

I created them at first in Art class in college. Sculpting has always been one of my many talents, and one of my many gifts. Frightening though. I could create them so lifelike, with pupils and everything, so that you would expect them to just walk up and shake your hand at any moment. But I should introduce myself, silly me. Medusa is what they called me in Greece. Said I was cursed by the gods, for sleeping with Zeus in Hera's temple, along with my two sisters. Ha! What do they know? I was not cursed by the gods. I was born this way. I was born so ugly I could turn people to stone. Wrong again! It's a hypnotic synapsis in my brain that registers through my eyes that petrified people and turns them a really ashy shade of gray. But not my beautiful angels. No, not them. I love them too much. I want them to be special, I said. I was begging for my own demise.

Yes, they can time travel. One angel per year. Yes, that is quite a few years, but I stopped making them long ago. I am one of the few people that have lived for practically forever. Yeah, Medusa was a monster who supposedly died long ago, forever and a lifetime ago, but she's more than just a legend. She's a monster. A monster who unwittingly created more monsters. I accidentally made lots of statues in the past, and lots of people hated me for it.

One person gave me a chance. I have a pretty statue of him in a train station now. Such a pretty statue, such a pretty boy. He wanted to kiss me. I let him. He opened his eyes just as he let go, and saw my… beautiful eyes. He got turned into a rock right then and there. Poor thing. He's got this dreamy shadow of a look on his face. Hands reaching out like there's someone right in front of him. Forever damned to look at all the people passing in front of him.

"I tried to tell you." Was all I could say to him. That's it. "I tried to tell you." It wasn't good enough. He could never think or feel ever again. That's when I decided that I was going to try to bring them back. I became Dr. Frankenstein. I wanted to bring them back.

So I started making statues, little angels. Because angels are totally harmless right? Just pretty to look at, to protect people who have died. Angels are good right? So, I made tons of them. I made them all about 2-3 inches high. No bigger, in case they blew up from my experiments. And believe me, some of them _did_ blow up.

For weeks, for months, for over 20 years I worked. Yeah. 20 years of work. Making a human come alive didn't take so long for Dr. Frankenstein, but for me it took 20 years. For 20 long years I worked. Piece by piece. Section by section. Every fragment, every shadow, and every little serum I tried, just so I could get him back. I wanted him back so badly. I wanted him to stop being as stupid as to try to look at me. If I could have had just one more minute with him… ah, but I never will. He's gone and I will never bring him back. Never.

I finally did it. I won't tell you how, for you would just go try it. I brought a little 3 inch angel to life. Couldn't stand to be looked at, and moved whenever I looked away, trying to grasp any second of life I had. But it learned pretty quickly that I couldn't be forced into the past… since I'm pretty much immortal and have long outlived my usefulness in society. Pity me. Not even the angels can whisk me away from here. Because I'm stuck in this time and they can't take the countless hours I possess.

It was such a mistake, bringing that one to life. Because then I had to make sure it would work on someone his size, so I began on the bigger angels, ones that are about 6 feet tall, and look like regular humans. They can even fly on those wings I gave them. It's so beautiful to watch. Literal stone, falling. I watched on and off, in the flickering light. All because she wanted to show me, little Eliza. That was the 3 inch one. She wanted to show me she could fly, even though she couldn't talk, she wanted me to watch. And watch I did. She flew so bouncy, so jagged across the sky. But she wanted me to watch. And she has been my companion after all this time. She wanted to live forever like me.

I have created almost 40 of those angels. And they, to thank me, took my serum to every statue in existence. It's pathetic. I left the lab unlocked, for none lived with me but the statues, and they took every drop of the serum. They awoke every statue in existence, and left small doses of the serum with every statue, so that they, in turn, could awake every new statue made. It's just sick what they've done.

But you know what the worst part is? The worst part is that they have taken what is most precious to me and it didn't even serve its intended purpose! That's correct, my love was given the serum, and it didn't work. He will never awake. Nor will any of the other people I've petrified over the years. None of the statues made by my eyes will awake. Lucky you. You are safe with those statues. They can't move, can't attack you, and can't really do anything. Now, most statues have no use for the people of the world, can't take you anywhere, like the angels can. Just the angels can take you away.

Now, some of the statues have a personal grudge against humanity, as well they should. Many garden gnomes have been taken from their families, and want nothing more than just to return to them. It's a pity that they should be forced away all that time, don't you think? And still others can't do anything, because they've got a giant metal base to them. Few are free-standing. This I have learned. Those that can be picked up and moved can move on their own and just might. But those with a stone or metal base from which they were built can never move from the base. Never.

So, my darlings, who art now reading this, never, and I repeat, never, make a statue without a base, unless you want it to kill you in your sleep, or to strangle the dog or some other naughty behavior? You will make them with a base, or else just send them to me. I live in Alaska now. Far in the north corner of Alaska. I'll look at them without my sunglasses for you. And they won't ever move again.

That's part of the tragedy of my curse. I can even turn stone into permanent stone. Isn't it wonderful? I can turn stone to stone, stone that will never move. It's just painful. And yes, I actually have snakes for hair. They can turn things to stone too. I think they're part of the reason no statue attacks me. They are observant, my little snakes. I have over 100 of them. 100 directions I can look in at any given time, and live absolutely free for it. I don't have to worry about being attacked, for I can look in over 100 directions at once. So even if a small army of angels bothered to attack me, they'd always be observed, and I would kill them for it. And they know it.

Forgive me, my poor reader. Forgive me for cursing you with my serum, for you must live with it now. You must forgive me. I was madly in love, and I… I wanted him back so badly… and I wasn't thinking… and those dratted angels had an agenda of their own.

So I ask you, what do the opposites have in common? They are part of us. Part of this world. Part of everything that we are, everything that we were. Angels just might be demons. I, a monster, just might be a creator and a savior as well. Who knows? Maybe I will find a cure for this dratted disease of the stones. Who knows?

I leave you with this: dreams and visions, darkness and truth, angels and demons, humans and animals, passion and despair. Opposites of the world we live in, in the universe. These things are opposites are they not? Are they not?


End file.
